


My Own Land

by Neptunium134



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: And I no longer like Max, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Esteban is a good boyfriend, Food, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neptunium134/pseuds/Neptunium134
Summary: Lance just wants to forget the Portuguese Grand Prix ever happened. Esteban just wants Lance to finally let himself feel.
Relationships: Esteban Ocon/Lance Stroll
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Motorsport Autumn Fic Exchange 2020





	My Own Land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BearWithAHat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearWithAHat/gifts).



> This came about when I was doing my homework, so I just took the idea and ran with it.
> 
> Normally I'm an angst writer, but as requested I've kept the angst down (hopefully), and the Portuguese Grand Prix offered so much angst material.
> 
> This was written for the Autumn Fic Exchange for @BearWithAHat, hope you enjoy it!

Lance was scrolling through Twitter again.

He knew he shouldn't, he knew he'd just be unleashing a torrent of pain onto himself, but it was a habit, and an unhealthy one at that. The pain, the anger, the guilt, was like a drug.

Maybe Lando was right, maybe he never learns.

The Canadian signed and turned his phone screen off, running a hand through his hair, grimacing at the greasiness of it.

Maybe a shower would be a good idea, it might take his mind off the race as well.

He picked up his phone, tapping the screen a few times to bring up his Spotify playlist. He'd always had a soft spot for musicals, and right now  _ The Light Princess  _ sounded really good.

Shower turned on, steam billowing out into the hotel bathroom with the fan turned on, singing along to the music on his phone, Lance was lost in his own world, away from the carnage and toxicity of F1, from the team's expectations, from his  _ father's _ expectations.

" _ No, it's not, I can't stand, my own land- _ "

_ Knock. Knock. _

Lance turned the shower off, wrapping a towel around his waist and turning his music off.

He grumbled slightly under his breath. He didn’t want visitors, he didn’t want to deal with people, really all he wanted to was have a shower with his music on, watch some TV while eating whatever room service meal was on offer that night, go to bed and completely forget today ever happened.

He peered through the peephole in the door, sincerely hoping it wasn’t someone he couldn’t bear. If it was Carlos coming to throw punches over his precious Lando, Lance might throw the Spaniard out the window. He just couldn’t deal with that right now.

To his surprise, Esteban stood outside the door, hand raised to knock again.

Lance pulled the door open slightly and Esteban met his gaze.

“Can I come in?” The Frenchman asked softly.

Lance opened the door fully, allowing Esteban inside.

“Let me get changed.” He mumbled, ducking back into the bathroom.

He quickly rinsed his hair of the last few suds and ran a towel through it, throwing on a t-shirt and joggers.

  
  


When he went back into the lounge area of the hotel room, Esteban was sat on one of the sofas, a spread of Indian take-out containers on the small table.

The Frenchman offered a small smile. “I know it isn’t strictly in our diets, but I thought you might like some comfort food.”

Lance returned Esteban’s smile. “Thanks,” he said, settling down on the sofa opposite his boyfriend, picking up a chicken korma and spearing a piece of chicken with his fork, scowling at it as if it had offended him.

Esteban, to his credit, didn’t say anything and instead spooned some vegetable biryani onto his plate.

They ate in a comfortable silence, only the clicking of plastic spoons and forks against each other, and the occasional slurp of vodka from Lance’s minibar.

Strong stuff it was, which made Lance all the more grateful it was in there. Maybe if he was black-out drunk, he could finally forget the day’s events.

Fate had other plans, evidently.

When they were finished, plates forgotten on the coffee table, Esteban turned to Lance and asked: “Are you okay?”.

Three words. That’s all it took. Three simple words to bring Lance’s universe crashing down. Three words, just three words to suggest someone actually cared about him, how he felt in the midst of all this.

Lance burst into tears.

Giant, hiccupy sobs that rattled his body. He brought his hands up to his eyes, the heels of his palms pressing into his eyes.

Esteban’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him into the Frenchman’s chest. Lance gripped Esteban’s t-shirt, balling the fabric in his fist, bawling into his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Esteban’s shirt was soaked with tears and snot, but the Frenchman didn’t care. He ran his hands through Lance’s hair, still damp from his earlier shower, allowing his lover to let out all his pent-up emotions, the emotions he had to keep hidden from the other drivers and the media, knowing that if he stepped even slightly out of line, he would be fed to the piranhas, he would be torn apart with no consideration to his feelings.

It made the Frenchman livid. He knew of the trolling and nasty comments Lance got online, of the things the media said, both to Lance and behind his back, of the hate Lance got on social media, and from some of the other drivers.

He held his boyfriend close, Lance still weeping into his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of Lance’s head.

Eventually, Lance pulled away from Esteban’s hold, sniffing slightly.

“Sorry,” he wiped his nose on his wrist.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Esteban immediately responded. “Lando should be the one apologising, Max, too.”    
He added under his breath “The twat.”

“I should’ve known better than to go around the outside, I should’ve thought it through more. It was a stupid idea.” Lance ran his hands up and down his arms.

“It was a risky move, yes, but that’s what F1 is about. Taking risks, taking chances. You can’t learn if you don’t go for it.” Esteban pointed out. “How else does Lewis know when to go for a move? Or Valtteri for an overtake? By making mistakes and learning from them. You can’t learn without mistakes.”

“But what is Lando is right? What if I am just stupid and careless? What if I don’t learn?” Lance sniffled.

“Then Lando is a stupid ass and his opinion doesn’t matter.” Esteban said. He sighed. “What he said was totally out of line, especially as it was after the race. If it was on team radio during the race, I would understand better, but in after-race interviews, ages after the incident? Not acceptable.” 

He brought Lance into a hug. “Maybe the same mistake happened twice in a few days, that’s how racing works. It has its ups and downs, everyone makes mistakes, that’s how the world turns. Let’s face it, life would be pretty boring if everyone was perfect.” Esteban cracked a smile, hoping Lance would return it.

The Canadian gave Esteban an unimpressed look.

Esteban sighed. “Ignore what Lando says, ignore what Max says, ignore the idiots online and the media. They don’t know what they’re talking about. They’re making judgments on one weekend. That can’t account for much. It was a shitty weekend, sure, but we’re back in Italy next week, and I know you’ll smash it out of the park.”

Finally, finally, Lance gave a small smile. “Thanks, Este.” He mumbled.

Esteban brought their lips together for a soft, caring kiss.

“Anytime,” he mumbled against Lance’s lips.

“I love you, mon amour.”

Lance giggled. “I love you too, giraffe.”

“You little-”

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly thought this was going to be hard to write, but once I got the first sentence it was relatively easy, and really fun.
> 
> This Grand Prix offered so much angst material, and while as a Lance fan, it was very hard to watch, but as an angst writer, it was the perfect inspiration.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story, I really enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Check out my Tumblr- Neptunium134- for other stuff I'm working on.


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